In an era marked by information overload and rapid shifts in collective memory, the ability to engage critically with the past has never been more vital. “Thinking Like a Historian,” authored by Bobbie Malone and Nikki Mandell, and released in December 2008 by the Wisconsin Historical Society Press, is a compelling guide that not only introduces readers to the craft of historical inquiry but also champions the value of thinking historically in everyday life. Whether the book is being used in classrooms, by researchers, or by curious lay readers, its central premise is clear: to understand history is not merely to memorize facts, but to interrogate, interpret, and make meaning from the traces left behind.
“Thinking Like a Historian” situates itself between textbook and manual, blending narrative with practical exercises. Malone and Mandell — as seasoned professors and passionate educators — approach the discipline with enthusiasm. Inviting us to see history not as a static collection of dates and names, but as an evolving conversation shaped by evidence, perspective, and interpretation.
The book is organized into distinct chapters that each tackle a fundamental aspect of historical thinking. Starting with an exploration of “What is History?” it moves through the processes of source analysis, contextualization, corroboration, and the construction of arguments. Case studies punctuate the text, weaving together diverse periods and places, from medieval Europe to twentieth-century revolutions. Readers are prompted not simply to absorb information, but to wrestle with ambiguity and differing viewpoints.
At its heart, “Thinking Like a Historian” is a manifesto for skepticism and curiosity. It insists that history is constructed, not discovered whole; that sources must be questioned, not accepted at face value; and that every narrative is shaped by the motives and limitations of its creators. Through vivid examples, Malone and Mandell deconstruct myths and “common knowledge,” demonstrating how historians work behind the curtain to assemble stories from fragments.
This approach can be directly related to the history of Owen and Withee, Wisconsin, two communities that rose along the Black River, shaped by the logging of the great “Pineries” in the late 1800s. Consider the story of the white pine forests that once blanketed the region. The typical local narrative might center on the heroic lumberjacks, the mighty log drives down the river, and the prosperity brought by the mills. But thinking like a historian urges us to look deeper: to examine old photographs of Owen’s sawmills, diaries of Norwegian and German immigrants in Withee, and newspaper clippings documenting the transformation of the land.
For instance, a historian might ask: Whose voices are missing from these accounts? How did the Ojibwe and other Indigenous peoples experience and respond to the vast deforestation and cultural changes? What economic, social, and environmental consequences followed the clear-cutting of the Pineries? By challenging the accepted story, we discover that the history of these towns is not just one of industry and progress, but also of loss, adaptation, and resilience.
One of the book’s most powerful themes is the notion of “historical empathy.” The authors urge readers to consider the experiences and worldviews of people in the past without imposing contemporary judgments. In the context of Owen and Withee, this means striving to understand the hopes and hardships of the settlers who arrived by covered wagon and by rail. The loggers who braved winter’s chill, and the families who carved farms from stumps and ashes after the forests disappeared. Practicing historical empathy leads us to appreciate the choices they made in a world much different from our own, and it opens space for the stories of those whose voices were long overlooked, including Indigenous communities and early women pioneers.
Teaching the history of changing ethnicity in Owen-Withee, Wisconsin (Clark County and Taylor County) presents a unique set of challenges. Over the years, the population has shifted, reflecting waves of different ethnic groups and cultures. Early settlement patterns centered on French, Danish, German, Norwegian, Polish, and other European immigrants who left their mark on the region’s churches, schools, and social customs. In more recent decades, particularly since 1973, the arrival and growth of Mennonite communities have added new chapters to the local story. And also, the Hispanics.
Educators face the challenge of presenting this dynamic history in a way that is both accurate and sensitive. The changing ethnicity of the region is often reflected in subtle shifts — such as the appearance of a few (and now many) Mennonite farms and businesses, new approaches to transportation, and diverse religious practices. For students whose families have deep roots in the older immigrant traditions, these changes may feel abrupt or unfamiliar. Teachers must encourage students to consider not just the heritage of their own families, but also the experiences and contributions of newcomers.
To Be Continued….